Many Moonbeams Later
by Muffinzelda
Summary: It's Laura's birthday again, and Robbie is plagued by his own insecurities as the party looms. As much as Robbie tries never to compare/contrast the loves of his life, elaborate birthday parties are definitely filed under "things Val wouldn't do."


Disclaimer: This story is for fan purposes only. The characters are property of their respective owners (not me!) and are used here without permission. Enjoy!

* * *

_Il faut cultiver notre jardin._

- Voltaire, _Candide, ou Optimisme_

The card arrived with the post in a purple envelope on Laura Hobson's birthday. She opened the envelope, read the words, and had to sit down. She held the card close to her chest.

That was how Robbie Lewis found her when he came in from the garden, sitting on the couch clutching the card, lost in her reverie. "Laura?"

She leapt up and kissed him with tears glistening in her eyes.

"What's all this, love?"

"Quite possibly the sweetest card I have ever received!"

"But I didn't send you anything!" He snatched the card from her hand with his right hand while his left clung to Laura jealously. He read the words and let out a sigh.

"Don't deny it, Robbie. You're a hopeless romantic."

"Whatever you say, love."

"In that case… you're also filthy! Take off those manky garden clothes and hop in the shower, post haste!"

Robbie Lewis, sweaty, smelly, and satisfied at present, had always wanted a garden. He had once tried an allotment, but he didn't have the time to devote to it with his job and all. Back when Chief Superintendent Jean Innocent had tried to dissuade him from retiring, she'd said he'd be bored growing carrots and watching countdown. She couldn't have been more wrong; he despised countdown, and he loved growing vegetables. He kept a to-do list of things to putter with on the fridge and he was never bored. The best part was that he didn't need an allotment now; Laura had given him free reign in the garden at her home- their home now. Her only condition was that he wear a ridiculously oversized sun hat to avoid burning his pale northern skin. When he complained, she threatened to add a ribbon with a floppy bow around it.

So there they were, Robbie covered in sweat and dirt and Laura perfectly dolled up for her birthday celebration. She was wearing a white cashmere sweater over a pale blue halter dress with ample décolletage to show off the blue topaz necklace Robbie had given her as an early birthday present. Her guests would start to arrive in an hour, and she was eager to impress. Not in the sense that she show off the necklace or parade around her "new" boyfriend as arm candy, but rather to unveil her newfound domesticity. She was settled! She knew that her happiness with the stable family-man Robbie Lewis would please the majority of her friends, though it would come as a surprise to those who would always think of her as she'd been in med school- a headstrong pixie who would never be tied down to anything outside of the pathology lab.

"Shower!" she commanded again, as she gave him a playful swat on the behind.

Robbie headed upstairs. He really hated parties, but he loved Laura and that would see him through the evening. Adding to his mixed feelings about the soirée was the fact that his steadfast friend and former sergeant James Hathaway had called earlier to send his regrets. The owner of a local pub had advertised live music that night, and a last minute cancellation led him to book James' group as a replacement. James couldn't refuse a paying gig; such was the life of a struggling musician. Robbie understood, of course, but how would he survive such a social event without James?

* * *

The party was in full swing three hours later. Laura the social butterfly glided between the guests effortlessly, always a drink in her hand while Robbie tended the snack trays and did anything he could to stay out of the way. Robbie was actually quite social and could charm the paint off the wall, though he was out of his element here. Most of the guests were Laura's doctor friends from med school and other posh people she'd met at uni or throughout her career.

A catty older woman was speaking to an eminent economist who was friends with Laura. "I wonder if Laura knows that Geordie of hers is wearing white socks with those trousers?" She was less than discrete with her remark.

"At least you know they're clean, pet." Robbie said to the older woman, calling her out on her snobbery. He then went to hide in the kitchen. Laura, who had not heard that exchange, began to wonder where Robbie was. She had long since shed her cashmere sweater and wished that Robbie was behind her, warming up her bare arms. But she didn't want him to feel like she was parading him around on a leash, so she let him be for a while.

Finally, Laura's bridge partner insisted on meeting Robbie. The two women (dragging a man in tow) cornered him in the kitchen. Laura beamed radiantly as she made the introductions.

"Robbie, I don't think you've met my bridge partner, Christine."

"It's a pleasure."

Christine introduced the man behind them as her husband. "Steven and I are so thrilled that Laura's finally found the right man. Tell us about yourself, Robbie!"

Robbie glossed over his biographical details: retired detective, widower, two kids…

"Oh! How old are your kids?"

"Grown and flown." He said simply, so Laura picked up where he ended.

"Robbie's kids are wonderful! His daughter especially. Look at this card she sent me!" Laura produced the card in the purple envelope. Christine cooed at the sentiment. Meanwhile, the catty old woman had meandered into the kitchen as well.

"Let's hope that the girl can spell better than her father!" The old hag said, nodding to the refrigerator and Robbie's to-do list of puttering projects and the materials he would need. Spelling was never Robbie's strongest skill and now that he wasn't at work, he wasn't in the habit of correcting himself. He knew what he meant, and that was the important thing.

Laura took offense and defended her man. "Rubbish. Robbie is a brilliant detective. Now let's go to the living room, shall we?"

As Laura and her entourage repaired to the living room, Robbie retreated to the garden. He sat on the swing and brooded. That first time that Laura had invited him to her home- many years ago now- had been for her birthday party too; she tried to draw him out of his shell by asking if he played poker. The innocent inspector had responded that he'd played cribbage with his gran back in the day. Not a gambler, our Robbie. He had felt so out of place that night, and yet here he was again- not as Laura's party guest but as her partner. So why did he still feel as though he were floundering like a fish out of water? As much as he tried to never succumb to the trap that was comparing and contrasting his lovers, he could not help but file "elaborate birthday parties" under "things Val wouldn't do." He found solace in the cool night air amongst the plants that he himself so lovingly tended.

He continued to stew there on the swing until shortly after midnight when a tall figure shrouded in a black wool coat emerged from the back door of the house. "Glad you made it, James." Robbie called to him.

"Tough crowd tonight. They were expecting something else, I guess. The gig broke up early, so I decided to swing by to see if the lights were still on. Your girlfriend is quite the party animal."

Robbie shot him a look. "Don't I know it. I've been facing quite the tough crowd meself tonight. Ach, I'm not cut out for this entertaining nonsense. I just don't know what I'm doing here."

James was used to Robbie's melancholy moods, though they had all but ceased since he and Laura had become a couple. "You're here because you finally got the girl! Wild parties notwithstanding, Laura makes you happier than I've ever known you to be. And she needs you by her side too."

"Don't know why. She seems to do fine on her own."

"Something about having you to love and cherish, I think. But there are far more practical reasons too- such as her current inability to stand up straight. You really should get back in there, Robbie. I'll break up the poker party, and you can take care of Laura."

Robbie didn't need to be told twice. Galvanized by James' account, Robbie strode back into the house. He assessed the situation and said authoritatively, "Thank you all for coming. I think it's time for Laura to get some rest, though. James here will be happy to call a cab for anyone who needs it."

Robbie went to Laura who was sprawled on the sofa struggling to keep her head up. "Are you all right, love?"

She slurred her speech as she answered, "I'm having a great time, Robbie." She groaned as he helped her to her feet. "Maybe I overdid it a tad. Not as young as I used to be." She collapsed back down onto the couch.

"Bed, pet." He whispered. She nodded. "Arms around me neck." _Bad back be damned,_ he decided as he lifted her into his arms and carried her off. Laura's remaining guests were duly impressed at the sight of a sixty-some-odd-year-old man spiriting away their friend to the bedroom.

Robbie laid Laura on their bed, removed her shoes, and helped her out of the dress before tucking her in. She clung to him as he tried to leave. She mumbled, "Don't go, Robbie. I love you. I always have."

Her voice sent a shiver down his spine. It was almost as if she knew he was questioning their bond. He knew he should reciprocate those three little words, but he couldn't. He bent down and kissed her softly. "Rest now, Laura."

Back downstairs, Robbie offered James a beer as he had offered to stay and help clean up. Robbie saw his to do list of puttering projects on the fridge and ripped it down before James could see the spelling errors. He should have given James more credit, though. While James couldn't resist an opportunity to rib his boss, he would never humiliate him. And as a dutiful sergeant, he knew that ostensibly correcting his governor's spelling was off limits. (That was to be done as covertly as possible!)

Putting his shame and self-loathing aside, Robbie was grateful that James had been willing to stay a while. As Robbie himself had derived so much of his identity from his role as a detective- especially following Val's death- Robbie truly admired James' ability to keep himself together following his decision to leave the police. James now worked three jobs: playing music wherever he could; working part time in a music store; and giving guitar and voice lessons at St Ambrose primary school. James did not really have the temperament to deal with children, but this made for some interesting anecdotes about the snotty-nosed brats. Robbie shook his head and reminded himself that James had never been a parent. Be that as it may, James was as keen as ever at helping Robbie keep things in perspective.

When James decided he needed to call it a night, Robbie eventually made his way back upstairs. He crawled into bed with Laura ever so carefully. But she awoke with a frightened start anyway. His melancholy returned as she didn't seem to recognize him in her panic. Neither one of them stopped to think that this was a residual effect of her abduction from her home several years ago; Robbie Lewis wasn't the only one who buried things deep inside his psyche, pretending to be fine.

"Easy, Laura! It's OK, Laura, it's just me. It's Robbie!"

"Robbie!" She buried her head against him. "I'm sorry; I don't know what came over me."

"It's just the drink, love. Speaking of which, I put a glass of water on your nightstand."

"Thank you." Laura's breathing calmed. She took a drink and lay back down. In an act of very uncoordinated cuddling, she flailed an arm across Robbie's chest and sprawled a leg over him. Robbie should have taken this to mean that Laura was comforted to sleep by his side, but instead he felt as if he were another pillow on the bed.

* * *

Robbie was already up and about when Laura eventually lumbered downstairs the next morning. He was feeling frustrated as he attempted the crossword in the paper. She sat down at the table next to him and rubbed her temples.

"If I ever have that much to drink again, cut me off, Robbie."

He gave her a wan smile. "Duly noted, love."

"Are you going to tell me where you disappeared to last night?"

"Garden."

"Are you cross with me?"

"No."

"Something happened last night that's bothering you, though."

"Nothing for you to worry about, love. How are you feeling?"

Laura moaned in response and made her way to the water dispenser on the refrigerator door. "Robbie, where is your list of puttering projects?"

"It was embarrassing, me spelling and such. If your friends didn't know I didn't go to university, they do now."

"Is that what this is about? That old brood mare who criticized your spelling? She's no friend of mine; I don't even know who she came with! If she's going to be so judgmental, I should be permitted to say that her wig was a ridiculous shade of red for someone her age and that her rhinoplasty was glaringly obvious!"

She observed Robbie, who did not even crack a smile at her mean-spirited joke. (Laura had a gossipy streak that he did find somewhat amusing, though he would never admit that.) She saw that he'd gone into a full-blown brood. She sighed and delicately tried to reach him. "For the record, Robbie, I defended you: I said you were bloody brilliant. And I meant it."

"Morse was brilliant." Robbie threw down the crossword in disgust.

"You were a brilliant team. He couldn't do it without you. The man couldn't help but wretch at the frist sight of blood. The keen observer of corpses at crime scenes and post-mortems alike was you, Robbie. It was always you."

Robbie opened his mouth to say something, but no words emerged. Robbie began to smooth out the crossword as Laura thought back to a conversation they'd had many years ago, before Morse died. _You care about him, don't you? He doesn't make it easy..._

"I know that Morse was very good to you over the years, but he could have been kinder with his words- especially given all you did for him. He never should have spoken to you as he did. It's the reason you think you'd never measure up. But you do, Robbie. You do."

Robbie's head snapped to attention. He looked at her, incredulous, as the past echoed in his mind. It was disconcerting to hear Val's thoughts articulated from Laura's lips- disconcerting yet comforting. He felt a surge of his old optimism as his mind replayed a scene from his home long ago. _I know he's your boss, but he shouldn't speak to you that way, Robbie! He should appreciate everything that you do for him! He does, Val; he does in his own way…_

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Laura enquired.

"Val always used to say that." Robbie was never sure how Laura would react when Val came up, but Laura didn't miss a beat.

"Well, Val was right."

Robbie at last grinned; the loves of his life were ganging up on him. He went to Laura and wrapped his arms around her. "And so are you, Laura."

Robbie realized that as different as Val and Laura were, they had one very important thing in common: loving him above all others. "I love you," he whispered as he nuzzled her forehead.

Laura kissed him. "Robbie Lewis, despite all your emotional baggage, you are the most stable influence I've ever had in my life. I love you too, and everything that comes with you."

She broke away from him and found the card in the purple envelope. Laura then sat on Robbie's lap and they read it again together.

_Dear Laura,_

_Happy Birthday! Sorry we're not able to make it to Oxford to celebrate with you. I hope that dad does something special to make you as happy as you've made him. The last time he was here for a visit, a song came on the radio. Something like: nobody ever had a rainbow until he had the rain. Dad said that reminded him of you. Mum was his sunshine, and then there was nothing but rain. But now he has the most amazing rainbow in his life. You're the best thing that could happen to him. I'm so glad you're part of the family now. _

_Love, Lyn_

"She's only half-right, Robbie."

"How do you figure?"

"_You_ are the best thing that could happen to _me_."

Robbie tightened his grip around Laura's waist and kissed her neck. "Let's take our breakfast into the garden." He whispered. Robbie, who had worked hard his whole life just doing what needed to be done, abandoned himself to a silly philosophical idea: this just might be the best of all possible worlds.

And so goes the new chapter of Lewis, or Optimism.

* * *

Author note 1: This is not intended at all to be a songfic, but I heard a nice lyric one day. The song Lyn refered to was _Tomorrow's Gonna Be A Brighter Day_ by Jim Croce.

Author note 2: This story includes a botched reference to Candide; I say botched because in the end Robbie embraces the very idea that Candide comes to reject! Candide dismisses the philosophy that despite his past troubles this is the best of all possible worlds. Instead, he simply needs to work in the garden. I'm sure that Hathaway would point out that Candide is a satire about how ridiculous and naïve optimism is, but I like to think that he wants a happy ending for Robbie and Laura too- so he'd pardon my literary sins.


End file.
